<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Red Jelly by kirkhammer</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24793150">Red Jelly</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirkhammer/pseuds/kirkhammer'>kirkhammer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>INVENTORY [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bloodborne (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:40:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>247</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24793150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirkhammer/pseuds/kirkhammer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>INVENTORY [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1894123</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Red Jelly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Konstantin reached into his pack and retrieved a small, wooden box - dark, but ornately carved and smooth, its hinged lid sealed shut with a small brass lock, the shape, of course, of an eye. He eased it open and within its lead interior was a swaddled parcel. He began to peel open the thick, waxed linen - the edges were frayed, and the cracks in its sheen were lined with a smudged, sickly red. The final layer greeted them with a breath of raw, ripe blood. Pungent enough for her to stumble back and for his lips to curl with something that wasn’t quite or entirely human. Beneath, steaming in the dark and gleaming softly pinkish in the damp light was something soft, and red. Small, maybe the size of his hand. Thin, wet, translucent skin holding in a sack of fine dark lines and not-quite-yet bones that quivered with every breath Konstantin took. The movement was not its own. In the melted spread of its bulbous, domed skull, Florence could even see the dark marbles of its unformed eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you know what it is?” Konstantin asked. Florence looked at him, at the something brittle and hopeful about him she couldn't name. If you put a little bird into his hands, broken, half dead, picked from the nest by crows; she was certain he would make it live. She bit her lip, glanced back at the unborn thing within his box, for precious things. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No,” she lied.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>